Nightmare
by highvoltagekat
Summary: Phil gets terrified by more than a bad dream. Warning:Slash and a scary theme! BOO!


Nightmare

A/N:Okay, so the thing that happens to Phillii in this story is called Old Hag Syndrome. OHS occurs after a person is waken up. They immediately recognize their surroundings but cannot move, and that is when they see the dark figure. The figure moves onto their chest and stays there for what seems like hours until finally disappearing, leaving the person in utter fear. This has never happened to me, so I only know about it from a nightmare book I read. But, did you know that over 40% of people have this happen to them?! That's insane!

Disclaimer:I do not own WWE or any of it's wrestlers. (Darn!)

Pairing:Phil Brookes/John Morrison

- - -

Phil ran furiously down an old, abandoned dirt road as a black cloud of smoke and nothing chased after him. All the rocks and dirt and gravel were being eaten away at a rapid, scary pace, the destruction following him.

As he ran, Phil noticed an ending in the road ahead, a cliff of sorts. He panicked, thoughts racing from one thing to do to another, but everything ended badly.

Phil skidded to a stop just as he reached the edge of the cliff. Below, there was a deep, dark, depressing trench with seemingly no bottom. He looked back at the cloud behind him and didn't have a clue what to do.

Phil shuffled his feet slightly in contemplation. But when he heard a loud crack, he froze. Suddenly, the edge of the cliff fell off, sending him tumbling down with it. His blood curdling scream echoed through the abyss walls,"Help me!"

Phil's eyes shot open, his chest heaving rapidly up and down. He looked around at his surroundings, immediately recognizing his hotel room and sleeping lover next to him.

The raven-haired man bit his lip,_'I need a hug.'_He tried to lift his arms to try and shake John awake, but found he couldn't move them. He tried his legs, but still nothing moved._'What the Hell is going on here?'_

Phil suddenly froze (not that he hadn't already) when he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his brown eyes. He looked over only to see a dark, ominous, haunting black figure standing at the foot of his bed.

Phil's pulse quickened as his breathing hitched. A warm chill ran up and down his spine, prickling at his neck. A feeling of fear and shock pooled into his body, burning his organs like acid.

The figure slowly hovered over to Phil, inching closer and closer until finally coming to a stop, resting on his chest. An icy cold sensation ran throughout Phil's torso. His pulse rapidly quickened to an even faster rate than before, his breathing became labored, and his chest felt as heavy as a lead weight. Everything in his mind stopped just as time seemed to.

The dark mass didn't seem to have a face, hair, or even any human like features or qualities. Just a black, chilling figure. The sharp outline of a human being with no color or textures. It didn't seem to be a ghost, but it wasn't unreal either. It was just so surreal.

Phil didn't know what to do. He couldn't move a muscle, he couldn't talk, he could barely even breathe properly. The bone-chilling, heavy feeling on his chest made him want to curl up and die. It was just so agonizingly intense. But that was nothing compared to the putrid, horrid, haunting realization that he just might die.

The mass hadn't moved, or talked, or even breathed since it had appeared. Just sat on his chest, not staring at Phil, but the image of two cold, black eyes popped into his head and stabbed his soul like a knife. The stare shivered his whole essence to the core.

Phil had no idea how long this experience had been going on. Seconds, minutes, hours...? Days...? There was no such thing as time inside that hotel room. Just fear and the thickest of thick air. Just a dark cloud of nothing.

Phil, just as his fate seemed sealed in stone, noticed the figure start to dissipate into the air. Slowly, the mass evaporated, the chilling subsides, and the weight lifted.

The raven-haired man just lay there, terrified beyond belief what had just occurred. Though he was sure his ability to move had returned, he just lay there, frozen solid with fear. Tears began to stream down his cheeks and onto his pillow. The hot tears were what he had been hoping and praying for after what the cold he had just felt in his body.

Phil whimpered and looked over at John, who was still sleeping soundly, with his eyes lightly closed and his snored quietly escaping his lips. There were no hitches in his breathing or black figures of nothing sitting on top of his muscular chest. There was an absence of fear on his face, along with no shivers running down his spine.

Phil flung himself onto his lover, using his night shirt as a tissue. John immediately awoke, eyes shooting open,"Phil? Phil, what's wrong, baby?! Did you have a bad dream?!"

Through hiccups and sobs, the Chicago native spoke,"I-It was w-w-worse than-n any bad dream-m, John! It w-w-was so horrible!"

John wrapped his arms around his lover, left arm going around his waist, right over his shoulders. He kissed his raven locks and whispered,"It's ok, baby. Just tell me what happened. Tell me what has made you so afraid."

Phil buried his face into the crook of his lover's neck, biting his lip and letting his hot tears stream free and fast as he told John all about the incident. Every emotion he felt, how hard it was to breath and move and think, even how he thought that he was going to die. It all poured out of him like a bucket of water. Nothing was left unsaid.

John held his lover tighter, pulling their bodies closer together. He rubbed Phil's back soothingly as he kissed his raven locks again,"Phil, hun, it's alright now. You're safe. I'll protect you. Don't worry."

Phil cried even harder, sobbed even more, hiccuped louder and held onto his comforter tighter. Those terrifying moments seemed so fresh in his mind, so crisp and clear. The chill still slightly prickled at his neck and down his spine,"John, p-p-please, I'm s-s-s-s-o afraid-d-d! Don't l-let g-go-o of me-e! Please-se!"

John felt tears sting at the corners of his dark drown eyes at the sight of his lover like htis. It tore him up to know that Phil had been scared -no, terrified- to this extent. He hated to see Phil cry, especially as hard as he was now. He wouldn't let go of his lover even if he wanted to,"Don't worry Phil, I'll never let you go. I'll keep you locked up in my hug until you feel better. Baby, I want you to be safe with me. I'll never, ever stop holding onto you. Not even if god himself told me to."

But God, nor anyone else, ever intended on doing so. Not now, not ever.

THE END!

- - -

A/N:I know, scary right?! Well, I hoped you enjoyed. And, if this has ever happened to you (*points at reader*), please PM me so I can actually get a real feel about how it happens. Peace!


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